


[our] sometime is now

by murdork



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: First Date, Fluff, M/M, lowkey betty/veronica and archie/jughead bc well.... everyone's gay, these bfs!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 09:41:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10160420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdork/pseuds/murdork
Summary: As close to a first date as they're gonna get.





	

**Author's Note:**

> title from dean martin's everybody loves somebody

He's trying very hard to listen to Archie's newest problem but between the roar of the diner on a Tuesday night, Betty and Veronica playing footsie, and the frightening silence of his phone, Kevin finds his mind drifting. He tries to restrain himself– keeping the thoughts focused on school– but he winds up right back at the drive-in. The alley behind the drive-in, that is.

He's no stranger to rushed hook-ups, and knows he shouldn't expect too much, but this is the first time one of them has let him actually be a contact in his phone.

Now if said boy would just text him.

"Kevin? Are you even listening?" Betty stops him mid-sigh.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally."

He can tell no one at the table believes him, but it's Veronica's stare that actually unsettles him. There's something about the way her head tilts. Like she knows about them. Which is impossible because Kevin doesn't even know about them. If there even is a them.

Veronica's eyebrows convey her doubt. Betty, the sweetheart, stretches her hand to rest atop his. "What's the problem?"

The problem is Kevin can't stop thinking about it. Him. The kiss. All of it. Mostly, he can't stop thinking about how his phone still hasn't rang. But he can't say that.

He bites his cheek and says, "nothing" just as his phones buzzes on the table. He grabs at it clumsily, and out-of-character. Veronica– who knows and shares his two minute wait rule– smiles wide.

"Someone special?"

All eyes at the table turn to him. Even Pop Tate turns his head in their direction. Kevin's cheeks warm under their stares. The phone in his hand is still lit up, and he wants to look, but that would show weakness.

The phones buzzes again (double text! his heart's practically bursting out of his chest) and he's so, so weak. He looks down to read and–

It's a text from his dad. The second a correction of his typo.

He's not disheartened, or he's trying not to be, but it kind of sucks. It's been, like, three days. He gets there's a rule but... he kinda hoped he would've been the exception.

He's busily turning off notifications and ignoring the looks of his friends when his phone buzzes again. He locks his phone.

Veronica mouths, "two minutes" under her breath.

He plans on following that rule because Kevin Keller is not desperate but his phone rings. Actually rings. Like someone's calling him. And it can't be his dad, because it's not a contact, and it can't be anyone else he knows because it's 2017.

"Are you gonna answer that, or should I?" Jughead says, reaching out.

Kevin slaps his hand away. "Yes, obviously."

He still waits until it's on its last ring before answering. "Hello?" He says, not looking at anyone at the table. He can feel their eyes questioning him.

"Uh, hey, is this–" a voice starts and it's so warm, and familiar, and he can't stop himself from interrupting.

"Yes. It is. Yeah. It's me. Hi." He's nervous, throat dry already and he slips hastily out of the booth for some sort of privacy.

"Hi."

His friends' eyes are heavy on his back, and he just knows Veronica's raising her eyebrows in a manner that reeks of curiousity. That's one cat that won't be killed.

He ducks out into the rain, desperate for some privacy. "So, uh, hi."

The smile in Joaquin's voice can be heard over the phone. "You said that already."

He's teasing. Kevin bites his cheek to keep from smiling– there's no way he's going to smile at his phone like some sort of lovestruck teenager. Even though he totally is one.

"Right. I did." His nerves have fully taken ahold of his voice now, even though Kevin's done this countless times before– although with much less attractive guys. Kevin isn't ashamed to admit he's got a type; he likes jocks, sue him. Joaquin is definitely not his usual type. He's rough and tumble, a little rugged, but impossibly handsome. Like a greaser from some old fifties movie. He's got the voice for it, and while they haven't exactly talked all that much, he's certainly charming. Charming enough to make Kevin's tongue tie.

"I was wondering–"

"Yes?" He berates himself for interrupting again.

Joaquin laughs, more of a rumble than anything else. So much for keeping his feelings on the down-low, he thinks. Though, he guesses that was out of the picture when he practically threw his phone at him.

"Sorry, go on." He mimes zipping his lips to a non-existent audience.

"Are you busy?"

Kevin peeks at his friends through the window of the door. "Well," he starts.

Joaquin takes this the wrong way, voice tight when he speaks next. "If you don't want to, it's fine." His tone suggest that that's a lie. "It was anything important anyways."

Kevin feels whatever relationship– thing they have trying to slip through his fingers. He'll be damned if it does. "Wait! That's not what I meant. Trust me, Joaquin, I want to. Whatever it is."

A bit brazen, but it does the trick.

"Nothing too wild. It is a school night, after all." More teasing. "Wouldn't want the sheriff to be mad."

"Of course not." Kevin laughs. "What did you have in mind?"

It's not like they can do much; Pop's is out of the equation, and so's the drive-in, as well as either of their houses– but Kevin's been thinking about the kiss (kisses) for days, and he'd take staring across a crowded room over nothing at this point.

"How about going for a drive? I know a place."

"Sure. Pick me up in ten, at the corner near Pop's?" He feels a bit shady, meeting on a corner, but it's better than the many prying eyes of the diner.

"Sounds good."

He walks back into the diner to say goodnight and to his surprise no one says anything about his leaving. Even Veronica keeps her eyebrows down to a only slightly suspicious expression. It might have to do with the way Betty's hand is resting tentatively on her thigh, but Kevin's not dumb enough to point that out.

He gets a text as he leaves.

_You know, if you want to stay with your friends, that's okay_ , the unknown number reads.

He looks back at his friends and how Betty and Veronica's hands are clasped not-quite under the table, and the way Archie's arm stretches out over Jughead's shoulders, and replies, _I don't think they'll mind_. He saves the number under "J" and adds a heart. Shaking his head, he deletes it, and replaces it with a smiley. Better not to raise any suspicion, just in case someone needs to borrow his phone.

Joaquin's car isn't what he was expecting. There are no tinted windows, no fancy tires, nothing that makes it look like anything else other than a regular teenager's crappy first car. The make is something from 2005, and it's an unfortunate shade of gray that might also be brown.

"It's champagne. The colour." Joaquin says at the expression on Kevin's face as he gets in the passenger's seat. "Don't ask me how I know that." He looks at him and Kevin's suddenly aware of how he's dressed. Still in his school clothes, not a hair displaced– not even artfully ruffled. He runs his hand through it, faux-casual, but the smirk on Joaquin's face shows that he was unsuccessful.

"Hi." Kevin says, sheepishly smoothing his hair back down.

"Hi. You look nice."

Kevin, obviously, knows this. He'd picked this outfit out carefully the night before, laying his options across the bed and settling on a sweater that went well with his eyes. He'd even managed to get a compliment from Veronica. So, yes, he knows he looks nice. This does not stop his voice from raising when he says thank you. He blushes, which is embarrassing in itself, when Joaquin's smile grows wider.

He fiddles with his seatbelt to avoid Joaquin's teasing look. "So, where are we going?" He says, trying to will the red away from his face.

"You'll see." Joaquin says cryptically.

"That's really not reassuring, given the whole boy-got-murdered thing Riverdale's got going on." Nevertheless, Kevin doesn't pester. He's too caught up in the way Joaquin looks, and drives, and how he wishes he'd thought to change before heading out.

The drive to their destination isn't long, but it isn't short either, and Kevin finds himself attempting to fill the air with anecdotes. He stops them sometimes, upon realizing that they're trivial, or about his dad booking a Serpent, but Joaquin never seems to get bored, or annoyed. He doesn't reply much, just laughs under his breath and nods to say, "go on."

When Joaquin eventually kills the engine, they're atop a hill. The streetlights cut out awhile back, and they're surrounded by the tall evergreens that grow in Riverdale. They don't leave the car– trying to avoid the rain– but they don't need to. The view is right there.

Below them, the lights of Riverdale shine. Its inhabitants are mostly asleep by now, but their paranoia keeps the town lit up, a beacon  
for them.

"Pretty cool, huh?" He can feel Joaquin's eyes on him. They haven't left his face since he parked, and this leaves his stomach full of butterflies. What makes them worse is the way Joaquin's hand has found its place atop Kevin's.

"It's beautiful." Kevin says, trying to fight his nerves away, taking in the not-so sprawling city before them.

"I thought you'd like it." Joaquin says.

"How?" Kevin says before he can stop himself. "You've known me– just barely– for three days."

He regrets it, but the absurdity of this moment– this perfect, cliché, heterosexual b-movie moment– is a little sobering. Kevin doesn't get this, Kevin gets fumbling and closets (and sometimes if God really wants to stick it to him, a dead body.)

Joaquin doesn't say anything, and Kevin's shoulders slump.

"You know," Kevin starts after it's been silent for awhile; the view here is amazing, the lights of town hazy under the rain. "I didn't actually think you'd call."

Joaquin looks over at him, resting a hand on his arm. He hasn't spoken as much tonight as Kevin has, which would make Kevin nervous but from what he can tell, Joaquin isn't much of a talker. Which isn't a bad thing, because Kevin talks a lot, and opposites do attract.

"What, and give up on this?" He's both amused and serious. His eyes are impossibly soft as he looks over Kevin's face. He avoids eye contact, nervous all of a sudden.

When Kevin doesn't reply (even though he should– he should apologize for ruining what could've been a perfect night) Joaquin sighs. It's a sigh Kevin knows well. It says, I like you, but you're too much work.

He expects Joaquin to pull away,  
to start the car and drive them away from this beautiful night, but he doesn't. Instead, Kevin finds his chin tilted up, his eyes meeting Joaquin's.

"Look, Kevin, I– don't really know what you want. But I know what I want. And it's..."

This mirrors so many conversations Kevin's already had. There have been countless "I want something open" conversations that leave Kevin not heartbroken but bitter, and deeper down, lonely. This doesn't feel like those, not with the way Joaquin's eyes trace every bit of his face.

"...you." Joaquin's hand hovers over Kevin's cheek. "In any way– every way– you'll have me. I know I'm– and you're– and we can't exactly–"

"Scream it from the rooftops?" Kevin suggests dryly.

Joaquin looks down, smiling. His long lashes rest against his cheeks when he does so. "Well, yeah. But... that doesn't mean I don't want to try."

His voice has been caught in his throat this whole time, but he manages to free it at least for the moment. "Really? Like, actually?" He forgets his eloquence for the time being, relying on valley-girl speak.

Joaquin's smile breaks into a grin. It's almost blinding. "Really."

Kevin allows himself one more moment of enjoying Joaquin's smile before launching himself at him. He presses kisses to his mouth, fighting his own grin. Joaquin kisses back with just as much enthusiasm, hands trailing down to Kevin's shoulders. Joaquin's hair is soft between Kevin's fingers, and Kevin can't stop himself from running his hands through it countless times. He almost forgets to kiss back, too caught up in the dream-like quality of the moment. They kiss for a long time– the view of the city long forgotten. It's a perfect first date, and Kevin's chest loosens with the thought that there will be more. Many more, if he has any say in the matter.

Like any perfect first date, it has to end. While he would much prefer to stay like this until the sun rose– and maybe even a little after that– Kevin knows that eventually, his friends will head home and his father will wonder where he is if not at Pop's.

His thoughts must translate through to his actions because Joaquin pulls his hands away from Kevin's jacket.

"What?" Joaquin says, breaking their kiss with his grin. "Got a curfew?" He leans in again.

Kevin falters. "Actually, yes." It hadn't been enforced since the summer, but it's back in full force after the break-in. He looks down at his hands which have now taken residence on Joaquin's chest.

Joaquin kisses him again, causing Kevin to curl his fingers into his jacket. "Cute. Come on, I'll drive you to the door." He traces Kevin's jaw with his fingers. "Or maybe just the end of your street." He winks, breaking their embrace but squeezing Kevin's hand as he starts the car.

He breaks them apart to change the gear, and then again as he puts it into second. Standard. Kevin's been friends long enough with Betty to know that that's a turn on.

There's barely light on their drive back, but Joaquin still goes ten over the limit; one hand on the wheel, one holding Kevin's hand. His hair is pushed back– Kevin's fault– and his eyes reflect the streetlamps as they get closer and closer to Kevin's house. He slows down when Kevin starts giving more precise directions, his reluctance clear.

"You can pull over here." Kevin says softly. The rain has stopped now, but he doesn't get out. Instead he clasps his hand around Joaquin's tighter. Joaquin mimics him.

They stay still for a moment, the time on the radio the only thing changing. He knows he can't linger for too long– lest a neighbour get suspicious, but he can't help but soak in these last few moments.

Kevin leans over to kiss Joaquin again, gently this time, and takes one last look at his features, trying to commit them to memory. Joaquin kisses back just as gently, his hands playing at the edges of Kevin's now-messy hair.

This won't be their last date, and certainly won't be their last kiss, but there's a certain melancholy to the secret they've agreed to keep that has Kevin coveting every moment, pressing his hand to his lips as he steps inside his home, smiling at the way Joaquin doesn't drive away until he closes his front door.

**Author's Note:**

> proper pacing??? i dont know her... anyways, tbh i think kevin probs gets brushed off a lot bc he wants a Relationship while ppl tend 2 not want that w him but lbr.. joaquin is GONE for him. he's in love.


End file.
